Miscommunication
by moirariordan
Summary: [Life With Derek] In which Derek and Casey get their lines crossed, a pointless scavenger hunt is assigned, Parker shows up for no reason, and a local WalMart gets an unexpected slumber party. [Dasey] My FlashFic entry finally for lNonToxicl. [1shot]


Written for Tracy (l-NonToxic-l) for the FlashFic challenge. Yes, I know I'm way late, but I hope 8,000 words make up for it.

Note: There is no Murdoch College, and there is no town called West Village. I made them up. Such is the right of a fiction writer. Also, I stole Parker Forrester from The Interview. This is not a sign of a prequel or a series; this is a sign of laziness. Just so you know.

00

"You have got to be kidding." Casey turned her head to see Derek's jaw hanging open, incredulity spread across his face.

"Nope." The TA for the freshman seminar class, Alex, smiled mysteriously as he walked slowly in-between the chairs, passing out the stack of pamphlets he held in his hands. "We here at Murdoch College enjoy a wonderful relationship with the community, and we want all students to benefit from this relationship. This exercise is something we do with all first-year students."

Casey took the handout Alex handed her and frowned. "But a scavenger hunt? Really?"

Alex shrugged. "We all had to do it. Rite of passage."

A girl with blonde curly hair and a strained voice spoke up – Casey hadn't learned her name yet. "What's a 'fightin' lemur' and how the heck are we supposed to find one?"

"The Lemurs are the local high school's football team." Several people tittered and Alex rolled his eyes. "I know. Just find something with the mascot on it."

Casey leaned backwards, hair swishing forward onto Derek's desk. "Can you believe this?"

Derek gave her an inscrutable look. "No," he said flatly. Casey frowned and opened her mouth to reply only to be cut off by Alex.

"This is being graded, so don't slack off. Bring your items into class next Monday – and you can work together, too, but only if both parties are willing!" Alex spoke over the rustle of the students gathering their bags together. "Professor Machen will be back from his sabbatical by Wednesday so that's when the actual learning will start!"

Casey grabbed her purse, gathering her books in her arms hurriedly to catch up with her stepbrother. "Hey, Derek – "

Derek was already halfway out the door. "Class, gotta go – " and then he was gone.

Casey froze. And dropped her notebook. "Shit."

She bent down to retrieve the notebook, scrambling for the loose pages that had splayed across the floor.

"Ex-boyfriend?"

Casey jumped and looked up, seeing Alex bending down to help her. "Who? What?"

"Is he an ex?" Alex clarified, gesturing toward the door. "Venturi, Derek?"

Casey flushed. "No, no. Just a friend." She took the papers from Alex, smiling tightly. "My stepbrother, actually."

"Oh. Wow, that's weird."

"Weird?" Casey asked.

Alex shrugged, retrieving the last of her fallen papers. "Yeah, brothers and sisters don't usually attend the same school, you know? They kinda want to branch out, find their own space."

Casey shrugged. "Derek's not my brother," she said.

"Oh, I thought – "

"My _step_brother," Casey stressed. "And he's not all that fraternal."

Alex smiled genially, handing the rest of her stuff off. "You should invest in a folder," he said with a wink. "Don't forget to hunt this weekend."

Casey bit her lip, looking back towards the door. "I won't."

00

"Wait, so the TA thought you were dating?"

Casey leaned back in her chair, pressing her nails into the Styrofoam of her coffee cup. "No, he thought we had dated, and then broke up. Not surprising, seeing as how Derek can't stand to even look at me." She watched her fellow students walk past from her vantage point on the coffee shop patio. She shifted in the wrought-iron chair and sighed.

Emily's voice was tinny and strained through the cell phone. "Maybe you made him mad somehow?" she suggested.

"What could I have done to make him mad?" Casey exclaimed. "He hasn't lowered himself enough to even have a conversation with me since _May_."

"May, as in when you sent in your deposit to Murdoch?"

Casey stilled. "You think he's pissed that I came to the _same college_?" she asked incredulously.

"It _was_ kinda weird, how you decided," Emily rationed. "I mean, you were all set to come to Toronto with me, and then suddenly you just did an about face."

"Because they gave me a full scholarship," Casey sputtered. "And they've got an amazing theatre program here, not to mention a dance program – "

"Yeah, yeah, so does the University of Toronto," Emily said. "And your scholarship doesn't cover the whole tuition. It just makes Murdoch about as expensive as any other state school." Casey huffed. "Don't try to make this about money, because it's actually harder for your parents, seeing as how they're paying for _two_ kids at a private college instead of just one."

"I like it here, Em," Casey said. "The campus is beautiful, the people are friendly, classes are small…"

"Yadda, yadda, yadda…"

"…and Derek is here." Casey relented. "I'm such a stalker."

"Nah…"

"I'm a freak. A miscreant."

"What the hell is a miscreant?" Emily asked.

Casey huffed. "It's, you know, a troublemaker who crushes on her stepbrother and stalks him at college."

"There's no such thing as stalking at a small college. You'll be on top of each other either way," Emily rationed.

"I don't know. He plays basketball now."

"Really?" Emily said, surprised. "I didn't know you could do that without a scholarship or something."

"No, he just tried out his first week here and got on the team," Casey said. "He's at practice a lot. Or he's just telling me he's at practice so he'll have an excuse to avoid me."

"I was surprised that Derek didn't want to keep playing hockey."

"He wants to get into film school," Casey mused. "I mean, he did the last time he talked to me voluntarily."

"Just keep trying," Emily advised. "Something's gotta give eventually."

"Maybe," Casey replied. "Maybe not. He can be incredibly stubborn when he puts his mind to it."

"When he's got a reason," Emily said. "He doesn't, for this. And if he does, then – well, corner him and force him to tell you. You can't fix it if you don't know what's going on."

Casey felt a sharp pang in her chest. "Yeah," she said gloomily. "You're right. Oh! You know, we have a class together, and we both got this stupid scavenger hunt assignment thing. Maybe I'll force him to work with me."

"Great! Wait – a scavenger hunt?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, better than a twelve-hundred word paper. Oy vey."

Casey giggled. "You can hack it, Em."

"Maybe." Emily's sigh echoed through the phone line. "I miss you guys, Case."

"I miss you too," Casey replied. "Fall break, right?"

"Definitely," Emily replied. "Crap. I gotta get to class. Things are totally real now, Case."

"Pray for me," Casey said solemnly.

"I'll do my best."

00

"Casey, I do not have time to take you to the emergency room, so do not fall off that thing."

Casey managed to throw a glare over her shoulder, which was significantly less intimidating due to the TV remote clutched in her teeth. "'is is ohr ault!"

"What?"

"I 'ate 'ese 'ings – " Casey hopped down from the ladder and spit out the remote. "This is your fault. How many times have I told you to leave the remote down _here?_" She scowled up at the lofted bed.

Parker shrugged. "Not sure." She grabbed a can of hairspray and let loose a mist of product over her head, part of it hitting Casey's face. "Hey, this doesn't make me look slutty, does it?"

Casey made a face, wiping her face free of the sticky product. "Depends on what you view as slutty."

Parker struck a Vanna White pose, displaying her skirt and button-up top. "What does it say to you – 'hi, my name is Parker and I'm interested in forming a casual, fun relationship based on mutual trust and respect,' or, 'Hey, you're cute, wanna screw?'"

Casey plopped down in her desk chair and flipped on the TV. "Um, the first one. Definitely."

"Damn." Parker pouted. "I was going for the second one." She peeled the top up and over her head, throwing it in the hamper at her feet.

"Try more eyeliner," Casey offered. "That always works for me."

"True." Parker grabbed a tank top and pulled it on, eyeing Casey speculatively. "So…" she started. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Casey looked up her nearly frantic channel surfing. "Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"

"Right. Nothing's wrong; you're wearing out the buttons in the remote for absolutely no reason at all."

Casey shrugged and mumbled something incoherent, stopping on a random channel. "Oh, look, A Walk to Remember!"

"Casey McDonald, you are full of shit," Parker announced from inside the depths of her closet. "Do you know where that cute pull-over thingy is?"

"Probably still in the laundry room," Casey said. "You still haven't dried those clothes you put in last night."

"I'm out of change," Parker whined.

"Use some of mine," Casey said, turning back to the TV screen and sighing wistfully. "I wish life were a movie."

Parker snorted. "No you don't."

"Yes I do! Everything works out for Mandy Moore." Casey pointed to the screen. "Look at her. She's a regular modern-day fairytale princess. With bad clothes."

"And bad hair," Parker added. "Plus, doesn't she have cancer or something in this movie?"

"No," Casey said staunchly. "And her clothes aren't that bad."

Parker looked incredulously between the television and Casey before grabbing the remote and flipping it off. "You're insane. And completely depressed. What's up?"

"Derek's ignoring me," Casey whined. "And I miss Emily."

"Is that it?"

"Derek's ignoring me," Casey repeated. "And…did I mention he's ignoring me?"

"So corner him." Parker shrugged. "Problem solved."

"Okay, maybe 'ignoring' is the wrong word. More like 'desperately avoiding at any and all costs.'"

"So…really corner him. Hold a gun to his head. Take his iPod hostage. Something." Parker slapped her playfully. "Like you don't know how to torture him by now." She grabbed the remote. "So yeah, this thing isn't helping."

Casey shot her a skeptical look and dodged for the remote. "Parker!"

"No chick flicks, no wallowing. I mean it." Parker tossed the remote back up on her bunk bed, ignoring Casey's cry of protest. "Do something productive, something that will take your mind off of him. Like homework! You love the library, right? You practically live there."

Casey stomped her foot petulantly. "I already did all my homework."

"So work ahead."

"I'm three weeks ahead in the syllabus! For at least three classes." Casey crossed her arms and scowled.

"Fine. Then stay in, relax. Eat some popcorn. Wait for my frantic call, telling you about the fugly loser that insists on buying my ticket to the new Ben Stiller flick." Parker fluffed her hair and stuck out her tongue at her roommate.

Casey sighed mournfully. "I bet Shane West never avoided Mandy Moore."

Parker raised an eyebrow at Casey and shook her head. "Okay, never mind. Get the fuck out of this dorm room."

"But I was gonna…" Casey trailed off, unable to think of an excuse.

"You were gonna march your ass right on over to Derek's dorm room and pound on his door until he opens it, and then you were gonna grab him and hold him down until you get some answers." Parker smirked. "Or until something…else happened."

"I never should've told you anything about Derek," Casey said sourly, scowling. "I should've known you were evil."

"It's the red hair, isn't it?" Parker tossed her bangs dramatically.

"Actually, it was the Hello Kitty memorabilia," Casey shot back. "Big, huge, flashing portent, and I just ignored it."

"Hello Kitty is a classic," Parker said, sounding wounded. A knock sounded on the dormitory door and she jumped. "Omigod! Where's my purse?"

Casey smirked. "On your shoulder."

"Right." Parker took a deep breath. "I'm hot, right?"

"Totally. If I were a guy I'd be all over that."

Parker grinned. "Awesome." She flipped her hair one last time and turned and opened the door for her date. "Hi there – " Casey grinned, hearing Parker cut off abruptly.

"Park?"

"Um, can you hold on a sec?" Parker shot back inside the room, eyes wide and panicked. "Casey!"

"What? It's not that creepy stalker guy from your Sociology class, is it?"

"No, worse." Parker took a deep breath, one manicured hand on her heart. "He's wearing…_eyeliner_."

Casey smiled brightly. "A real catch! Ask him to take you to a Fall Out Boy concert."

"Shut up. I hate you." Parker slammed her head against the wood of the door. "No, no, I hate myself. I should've known."

"Just go. Work past it."

"I can't!" Parker whined.

Casey gave a dramatic slump of her shoulders. "Okay, fine. Stay here with me. I'll tell you all about _Derek's _guyliner phase. Of course that was back when he wasn't _ignoring_ me…" Casey gave a mournful sigh.

Parker glared at her. "Fine, I'm going. But you better not be here when I get back, otherwise I'm gonna kick your ass."

Casey smiled sweetly and made a 'shoo-shoo' motion with her hand. Parker rolled her eyes and pushed back out through the door, her voice fading down the hallway. "Hi, sorry. So what's up with your makeup?"

Casey shook her head, leaning back in her chair. "Pound on his door, hold him down until I get answers…" she mused softly to herself. Spotting her cell phone on her desk, she grabbed it and dialed Derek's cell number from memory, pressing the 'call' button before she could change her mind. She worried her teeth on her bottom lip as she listened to it ring, the shrill tone aggravating her headache.

A small tone indicated the voicemail picking up the call, and Casey let loose a frustrated breath.

_"Hi, this is Smerek's phone! Leave a message and _maybe _he'll call you back. Bye!"_ Casey snorted at Marti's familiar message and waited for the beep.

"Derek, it's me. Call me back. It's important." Casey floundered for more words, any stroke of brilliance that would somehow bring him running to her. "Look, I don't know what I did…" she trailed off, a bolt of pain in her chest rendering her momentarily speechless. "I'm sorry if I made you mad, okay? Just…call me," she choked out. She winced at the desperation in her own voice and quickly flipped the phone closed before she could dig herself in any deeper.

Depressed and disgusted, she threw the cell phone at her desk, relishing in the crash it made as it hit a pile of books. Bolting up from her seat, she started to pace the small space, wracking her brain for options.

What right did he have to just…blow her off like this? He'd done some pretty shitty things to her, Casey knew, but this…this seemed going above and beyond the limit, even for Derek. This was like…

Casey huffed. Actually, this wasn't horrible at all. In fact, if this had happened say, two years before, she would've jumped for joy.

And that's what was so frustrating about it. It wasn't like she had any real reason to be hurt or angry…he wasn't her boyfriend. He was her stepbrother. Sort of a friend, but not really, and wasn't it fine – expected even – for him to separate himself if he wanted to? It was their first year of college, and it was completely within his rights to move away from any reminder of London, to move upwards and onwards to new people and experiences…away from high school, away from the family, away from _her._

She sucked in a sharp breath, the same frantic thoughts that had been running on repeat through her mind for the past five months all roaring to the surface. Had she done something? Said something? Did he…_know?_ Was that why he was avoiding her as if she had suddenly sprouted a sudden case of leprosy? Was he so disgusted at the mere _thought_ of being with her in any sort of friendly capacity, let alone romantically, that he couldn't even look her in the eye anymore?

She collapsed back into her chair, biting at her thumbnail. It was insane. The whole thing was insane. She didn't know how she could've gone to despising his existence to all this ridiculous pining over the jackass – as if he even _deserved_ it.

She glared at her cell phone, retrieving it from its pile of rubble and flipping it open. She clicked into her voicemail and a big fat 'no messages' signal flashed across the screen.

_Pathetic._ She huffed and grabbed her sweater from where it was thrown over the back of her chair. He obviously wasn't going to come to her, then, well, she'd just have to go to him. And well, hold him down until she got some answers. Possibly with violent methods – Casey was getting less choosy as the radio silence stretched on. And never let it be said that Casey McDonald didn't fight for what she wanted.

00

"Are you coming in, or what?"

Casey jumped out of her trance, looking up at the annoyed-looking girl, holding the door to the dormitory building open. "Um…no. I mean, yes."

The girl rolled her eyes and let the door fall, striding off into the dark campus. Casey darted forward and grabbed it before it could fall close, slipping inside the stairwell before she could stop herself.

Okay, so maybe pacing right outside the door wasn't such a good idea. But she wasn't sure if her ID would open the door to a dorm that she didn't live in, and she didn't want to look like an idiot…cowardice had absolutely nothing to do with it at all. Not even remotely.

Her legs took her to Derek's first floor room almost instinctually and she faltered suddenly as she rounded the corner. Well, maybe cowardice had a _little _bit to do with it.

She stared at his door sourly, as if the blank piece of wood was the source of all her problems. There was a small whiteboard attached to the door, and Casey scowled to see several flirty messages scrawled on the surface. Feeling petulant, she gave it a swipe with her sleeve.

_Yeah, how're you gonna message-flirt with Shelly Slutty now, Derek?_

Lips set in a thin line, she pounded on the door, right on the little paper sign that held Derek's name. As she pulled her hand back she saw that it had slipped slightly from its sticky-tac hold as a result of her assault, and gave a little 'hmmph' of triumph. Serves him right, the avoidant, whiteboard-flirting bastard.

She shifted her weight from side to side as she waited, resisting the urge to pound again. Just as she was about to succumb, the door swung open.

Derek's roommate wasn't what you would call 'compatible' with him. Or with any male human. Or any human period. Casey scrunched up her nose and took a step back as a large, bespectacled, wide-eyed creature wrenched the door open and took a step into the hallway, arms folding across a bare chest. "Can I help you?"

"Um." Casey swallowed. "Hi, Martin."

Martin was anal-retentive, obsessively neat, and a math major. Three things that Derek took personal offense to, if Casey remembered correctly. And she did. "Do I know you?" Martin pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, squinting at Casey through the lenses.

"Um, I'm Casey. Derek's stepsister?" Casey shifted her weight nervously. "We've met before. Quite a few times, actually." Martin raised an uninterested eyebrow. "Um, is he here?"

"Who?"

"Derek."

Martin rolled his eyes. "No."

Casey shifted her weight uneasily. "Well…do you know where he is?"

"I think he said something about a hunt?" Martin shrugged. "I wasn't really listening."

"Hunt…oh! The scavenger hunt for the Freshman Seminar? Because I have to do that too – "

"Okay." _Slam._

Casey sighed. "That went well." She had a stab of sympathy for Derek, who must be nearly out of his mind because of his roommate, then quickly squashed it. Ignoring her! Whiteboard flirting!

She huffed and grabbed her cell phone, turning on her heel back down the hallway. Dialing Derek's number again, she bit her lip impatiently as it rang.

_"Hi, this is Smerek's phone! Leave a message and _maybe _he'll call you back. Bye!" _

"Hi, Derek! Listen, Martin told me that you were out doing the scavenger hunt thing for Seminar, and I figured, why not go in on it together?" Casey pushed the heavy door open with her back, shivering as a wave of cool air washed over her from outside. "So I'm on my way. See you in a couple minutes!" she chirped, flipping the phone shut and plopping down on the bench outside of the dorm.

It was either a brilliant idea, or a horrendously stupid one, she figured, but if she knew Derek, he would never be able to leave well enough alone.

Sure enough, she'd only been sitting on the bench for a mere five minutes before her phone buzzed in her hand, Derek's name showing up on the screen. Squashing a stab of triumph, she flipped it open. "Hey, _Der._"

"Casey." Derek's voice was steeped in irritation. "Don't come out here. Seriously."

"Why not?" _COME OUT WHERE?_

"Because – " Derek fumbled. "Just because, okay?"

"Because why?" Casey feigned innocence. "You _are_ doing your assignment, aren't you?" Derek was silent. "Or are you at one of your imaginary basketball workouts?"

"Case – "

"Washing your hair? Chicky-racing?" she snapped.

She heard him sigh. "No. I'm looking for pomegranates."

Casey sat up straighter. "I heard they have some at the K-Mart on sixth."

Derek was silent for a while longer. "Where are you?" he asked finally.

"Um, in my car," she lied. "I was gonna come…join you. You know, out…where you are."

Another long silence. "You don't actually know where I am, do you?"

"No! I mean, yes. I do. Martin told me."

He snorted. "You suck at this."

Casey made a faint noise of disgust. "Fine, I don't know where you are."

"You're such a horrible liar. Just stop trying already." He sounded warm, almost normal, like he'd been before, and Casey sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly incredibly irritated again.

"Where are you?" she demanded.

"I'm just…out looking for this stupid list," he said. "Here and there. I'm almost done anyway." His voice was distant again, and she felt a stab of pain in her gut.

"No! Don't – don't – " Casey stuttered, angry pressure building in her chest. "Just tell me where you are."

"Casey, it doesn't matter."

"It damn well does matter," she hissed. "Where are you?"

There was a long silence in which Casey bit the inside of her cheek, willing him to speak as hard as she could. Finally, she heard him sigh in irritation. "I'm pulling into the Wal-Mart near campus."

"I'll be there in ten minutes." She hung up before he could answer, dashing off into the night, heading for the parking lot, not daring to think.

00

Twenty minutes later, Casey was trying to think of a profanity she hadn't used yet. _Idiot? Jackhole?_ She huffed angrily, turning around quickly only to run into a cardboard display of concealer. "Motherf – "

"Can I help you?"

She whirled around. "No, nope. Sorry." She stretched her mouth into a strained smile. "Just, um, browsing."

The employee straightened her blue vest impatiently, popping her gum. "We're about the close. Can I help you find something?"

"No, I'm almost done." Casey held the smile until she'd turned the corner, then let it drop into a frown. "_Fucker,_" she finished her curse.

"Hope you don't mean me."

Casey jumped and let out a squeak, hand flying to her heart. "Damn it, Derek!"

Derek was leaning over a cart, smirking down at the ground. "What took you so long?"

"What took me so long?" she asked incredulously. "I've been here for ten minutes, looking for you."

"I was hunting down the list," he said, leaning down into his cart. "Dover-Thrift edition of _Hamlet,_ a green alarm clock, Vans shoelaces." He shook his head. "Whoever thought up this assignment needs to get fired."

"Did you get the lemur thing?" Casey asked, leaning down to inspect a package of bright blue Post-its.

"I found a window sticker thingamabob." He picked up a cling-on decal of what looked like a rabid ferret, a talking bubble coming from its mouth proclaiming, 'my West Village honor student can beat up your honor student.' He snorted, tossing it back into the cart. "This town is so strange."

"I like it here," she said.

"Are you kidding? It's like Stars Hollow on crack."

"You did _not_ just make a Gilmore Girls reference," Casey said, snorting.

"It is not my fault that Martin insists on playing it 24/7," Derek said, raising an eyebrow. "The guy has problems."

"Uh huh. Just don't go all Lorelai on me, I've had enough trauma for today."

He let out a short laugh, then cut it off abruptly and took a step back, clearing his throat. "What about you? How far have you come?"

"Um." Casey bit her lip, a little unnerved. "I made brownies yesterday," she offered.

"That's it?"

"Well, you've got most of the list right here," she said, nudging the cart. "What's left?"

"A local newspaper and a maple leaf," Derek said, reading off the list lying in the child's seat of the shopping cart. "We can find those on campus."

"Great."

"Right. So it wasn't even worth you driving out here," he said. "I had it under control."

Casey felt a flare of panic and grabbed the cart. "Could…we pick up a few things while we're here, maybe? Shampoo and stuff?"

"Couldn't you do that on your own?" he asked impatiently.

"Well, you already have a cart and all, I thought…"

He gave her an inscrutable look and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Make it quick."

00

"This is not quick."

Casey tapped one finger on her chin thoughtfully. "What do you think? Berry Blast or Egyptian Vanilla?"

"I think you should grab a bottle of fucking conditioner so we can get out of here," Derek snapped, irritated.

"I can't just grab a bottle, Derek," Casey said calmly. "This is going to go into my _hair._ I don't think you comprehend how delicate of a process it is."

Derek stared at her, deadpan. "There is way too much crazy in that sentence to even comprehend."

"I think Egyptian Vanilla. Berry Blast sounds like a yogurt flavor."

"Okay, great. Let's go."

Casey frowned. "But what about Venetian Rain? That sounds interesting."

"How is your hair supposed to smell like rain, exactly?"

"Special rain. Rain from Venice."

Derek grabbed a blue bottle and threw it in the cart. "There. Lavender. Let's go."

"That's what I normally use, though," Casey said.

"Well, let's stick to what works." He grabbed her arm. "Come on."

"I – what about styling gel?" she snapped, trying to stall him longer.

"You don't use styling gel," he said flatly.

"I – I – " she floundered. "I have to go to the bathroom!"

"Then go, and I'll be in the car."

"No, no, you have to come with me," she said, grabbing his forearm and dragging him towards the back of the store.

"I am not Emily, and I am not going to the restroom with you," he said, sounding vaguely offended.

"But it's all, you know. Dark and…empty. What if there's some crazy bathroom stalker lying in wait to cut all my hair off and stuff me in a garbage can?" she babbled. "I heard something like that happened in Niagara Falls last month. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

"Well, that's a loaded question," he grumbled.

"Come _on._" Casey bit her lip, dragging Derek back to the bathroom. "Just stand outside the door until I'm done."

"The store is closing, Case. Half the lights are off," he said.

Casey shrugged. "I'll be quick."

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

Casey deposited him on a small bench outside the bathrooms, gracing him with a small, nervous smile. "Promise," she chirped, vanishing into the restroom.

Derek shook his head and reclined back onto the bench with a sigh. He was so dead.

00

"I am so dead," Casey whispered, glaring at herself in the mirror. "Dead. D-E-A-D. As a doorknob, or a dormouse. Or some other door thing."

She shook her head and jabbed at the soap dispenser angrily, leaning down to wash her hands for the fourth time. There was only so much more time she could spend in the restroom before Derek would start to think that she really had been stuffed in a garbage can. The question is if he would stick around to let her out or not.

She wracked her brain for the thousandth time, trying to figure out what she'd say upon her emergence from the small, dirty bathroom, once again coming up empty on the whole 'brilliantly eloquent and charming argument' front.

Neither could she come up with any other ideas on how to stall any longer than she already had. She sighed forlornly, absentmindedly wiping her hands dry on the proffered paper towel. _He probably already left,_ she thought. _Probably scampered out of here as if Kendra Mason was on his heels._

She blew her bangs out of her face and frowned at the door. _Here goes nothing._

Lo and behold, however, Derek was still on the bench, albeit half-asleep. His head was leaning back against the wood planks of the cheap bench, eyes closed and tabloid magazine open on his chest.

She quirked a smile and sat down next to him gingerly, studying his face carefully. He looked different than she remembered. His face was a little thinner, the dark circles beneath his eyes a bit more pronounced. His mouth was creased into a frown, and his clothes were rumpled as if he'd slept in them the night before. His hair was longer, too, curling over the back of his collar and falling into his eyes haphazardly. Her fingers itched to brush it aside, and she had to clench them in her lap to squelch the urge.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

She jumped at the sound of his voice. "Sorry," she said hastily.

He cracked an eye open and regarded her plainly. "No hair-cutting bathroom stalkers?"

She blushed, suddenly ashamed of herself. "No."

He shot her a strange look, rising from the bench. "Okay, let's get outta here. I am badly in need of a cigarette."

She bit her lip, a strange and familiar ache rising in her chest. "Okay," she said softly, rising to follow behind him, hands stuffed in her pockets.

"Where did we leave the cart?" he asked. "It's gotta be…" he trailed off suddenly and broke into a loud groan. "You have got to be _kidding_ me."

"What?" She came up beside him and blanched. The line of registers was dark and quiet, and a bright red security light was the only light source in the front part of the store. Everything was off, and it was obvious that all the employees had left for the night. "Oops."

"'Oops'?!" he repeated incredulously. "That's all you can say? 'Oops?'"

"Oops, I'm sorry?" she tried.

He glared at her before striding over to the electronic doors, waving his hands at the sensors. "Come _on._" He tried to pry them open to no avail, grumbling underneath his breath.

"Derek, you're gonna set off the security system," Casey said worriedly.

Derek gave no outward sign that he'd heard her, working on the doors. Finally letting out a sharp breath, he took a step back and slammed his hand against the thick glass angrily. "Son of a bitch!"

Casey jumped at his angry voice. "Derek," she said, his name escaping her mouth involuntarily.

Derek ignored her again, resting his forehead against the door. "Perfect," he said bitterly. His voice was quiet, but it carried through the empty store and hit Casey like a slap in the face.

She recoiled. "Look, we can just call somebody," she said. "I'm sure we can find a number for some main office somewhere, they can send somebody to let us out." She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to mask the hurt in her voice.

He was silent for a second before turning around and fixing her with a sour glare. "Oh yeah. Wonderful. Thanks for the wisdom, Case, you're always helpful in times of crisis."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and glared back. "You don't need to be mean, Derek. It's not my fault they didn't know we were still in here."

"We would've been out of here twenty minutes ago if you hadn't felt the need to wash your hair, or whatever the hell it was you did," he retorted. "What, did you need to fulfill your 'torture Derek' quota for the month? Congratulations."

She felt the tears coming and whirled around, not wanting him to see her cry. "Whatever. I'm going to try the pay phones in the back."

"Don't you have a fucking cell phone?" he launched at her back, but she was already striding away, wiping furiously at her face.

00

"No, we're not breaking into your store, we're locked in." Casey huffed in annoyance, banging the back of her head back against the wall. "No, we don't work here. Didn't I just tell you that?"

She listened for a few more moments. "No, sir, please – don't put me on hold – wait!" She growled in frustration as the now familiar elevator music reached her ears and flipped her phone closed.

Well, this sucked. It wasn't her intention to lock them in the stupid store, honest – like she wanted to be stuck in the same building as a Derek who seemed to really want to yell at her.

Another sob tore through her throat and she let her forehead fall to her knees, throat closing up once more. Normally she wouldn't have let herself get this upset over a two minute fight-that-was-barely-a-fight – and if the Casey from two years ago could see her now, she'd be in for the lecture to last a lifetime – but the strain of the past few weeks had finally caught up to her, triggered by Derek's obvious desire to be anywhere that was away from her.

She sniffled, trying to wipe away the moisture on her cheeks. She was curled up in the corner of the store, surrounded by shelves of floor rugs and welcome mats. She gave a derisive look to a brightly colored rug that looked tackier than George's Elvis alarm clock. It was definitely one of the worst places she'd ever cried in. Maybe the worst.

_What did I do? _She thought helplessly for the hundredth time. _He really doesn't want to be around me at all. He has to know – oh God, did he hear me talking to Emily or something? Oh my God._

She bit her lip viciously, trying to keep another wave of tears at bay. She couldn't stop picturing his face as he glared at her. She shuddered and let her head fall back to her knees. She so needed to be anyplace else right now.

Footsteps reached her ears and she stiffened, quickly wiping her face with the hem of her shirt. She briefly contemplated hiding behind some of the larger rolled-up carpets, but thought of rug burn and quickly vetoed the idea.

"There you are, I've been looking for you everywhere." Derek huffed. "You wouldn't think a Wal-Mart would be this big, but…" he trailed off, catching sight of her face. "What? What happened?"

She gave a snort and turned her head away from him. "Leave me alone."

"Why are you crying?" He sounded genuinely confused. "Case?"

She glared at him. "I thought I told you to leave me _alone,_" she said. "That means go away."

"Hey, excuse the hell outta me," he said. "I know you're not the most stable of people, but you don't usually burst into tears for no reason."

"No reason?" she repeated, annoyance and embarrassment blossoming into anger. "You're unbelievable."

"What?" He frowned, taken aback. "What'd I do?"

She scoffed. "Oh, I don't know. Ignoring me? Doing everything in your power to avoid being in the same room with me? Yelling at me whenever you can't get away from me?" She wiped her cheek and sniffed, feeling pathetic. "Contrary to what you might think, I do kind of give a crap when you deliberately try and hurt me."

Derek blinked. "Hurt you?"

"Can you just – " She shook her head. "Can I have a minute, please?" Her voice broke on the last word and she winced as thick silence fell.

When Derek spoke, his voice was low and rough. "Case, you've got it all wrong, okay, you – " he broke off and fell against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting next to her on the floor. He ground his forehead into his palm, frowning heavily. "I wasn't trying to – " he floundered for words, finally sighing in frustration. "I'm sorry."

Casey blinked, unused to hearing Derek apologize sincerely. "What?" she sputtered.

He sat there for a long minute, staring at the ground in front of him. Finally, he looked up at her, an unreadable look on his face. "Are you hungry?" he said.

"Huh?"

"I'm hungry." He grabbed her arm. "Come on."

Casey frowned, stumbling as he pulled her to her feet. "Derek – "

"Shh, no talking." He pulled her off down the aisle. "Don't think." Casey snapped her mouth shut, rolling her eyes. "Atta girl."

"Where are we going?" she whined.

"To get food."

"How are we supposed to get food? There's no one to check us out." Derek scoffed and looked back over his shoulder. "Derek! That's stealing."

"Who cares?" He pulled her into the small café, jogging behind the counter.

"We can't," she insisted. "Derek!"

"Is this even edible?" Derek shook a container of nacho cheese, watching as it barely moved from the bottom of the plastic bin. "That's gotta be against some sort of health code rule."

Casey shoved her hands in her pockets, looking around nervously. "We can't eat any of this, Derek."

"What else are we supposed to eat?" Derek jiggled the cover of the glass case that held the pastries, cursing when he found it locked. "Such variety here at the Wal-Mart Café."

"Derek…"

"Look, if you're that worried then we'll pay for it in the morning, okay?" He grabbed a plastic cup from beneath the counter and stuck it beneath the soda fountain. "Diet Coke?"

Casey sighed and hopped up on the counter. "Regular."

"Ooh, stepping outside of the box, are we?" He moved the cup and filled it with the soda, passing it off to her. "Okay, so you want a big cookie or…" he rummaged around a bit. "A bag of Doritos?"

Casey shook her head, sipping her soda. "Doritos," she said after a moment.

"Score." He hopped up next to her, holding two snack-size bags of Doritos in one hand. "Here."

She took it from him tentatively. "Um, Derek – "

"So we'll have to figure out how we're going to sleep," he said. "I propose camping down in anywhere but Electronics. I really would rather not go to sleep with Hilary Duff staring at me all night."

Casey looked at him, narrowing her eyes. "What are you trying to pull?"

He shrugged. "Nothing." He opened the bag and pulled out a chip. "Eat your dinner."

She huffed and opened her own bag, pulling out a chip and munching on it thoughtfully. "I guess we could get something to sleep in," she said. "They sell like, beds and couches and stuff, right?"

Derek smiled. "Now you're thinking."

She blushed again as the full force of his smile turned on her. "Mhmm. Okay."

He nudged her shoulder with his own. "Okay," he mocked.

"Shut up." She bit her lip, staring at her lap.

"So." Derek cleared his throat. "How…are things going? With, you know, first semester and everything."

She snorted. "You suck at this," she mocked back, repeating his words from earlier that night.

"Yeah, well." He shrugged and grabbed her cup, taking a sip. "How's everything?"

She looked over at him, not quite believing it yet. "Um, fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah." She munched a chip slowly, brow furrowed. "What about you? Basketball?"

"Basketball is nice." He jiggled the cup, catching a piece of ice in his teeth. "Relaxing."

"Basketball is relaxing," she repeated doubtfully.

"It's physical," he said. "Doesn't give you much room for thought. It's instinctual, just movement. Plain and simple."

"Huh." She tilted her head at him thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shrugged. "Sounds lonely, is all."

He was silent for a moment. "Maybe."

She smiled tentatively. "How about classes?"

"Classes are classes," he said. "I've make an appearance every once in awhile."

Casey smirked. "You can't skate by on your charm forever," she said.

"I can try." He leaned back on his elbows. "What else? Fill me in."

She sighed, crumpling up her bag. "Okay, I get it. You're making an effort."

"An effort?" he repeated. "I'm trying to talk to you."

"Please don't patronize me," she snapped. "That's certainly not what I wanted."

"I'm not patronizing you," he replied slowly.

She hopped off the counter, movements jerky and frantic. "You know what? Forget I said anything, okay?"

He looked at her calmly. "Casey – "

"I'm really tired," she said loudly. "Let's just go find somewhere to crash, okay?" He kept looking at her, causing her stomach to twist uneasily and her knees to wobble slightly. "Okay?" she snapped.

He shrugged. "Fine."

"Fine." She squirmed beneath his gaze and crossed her arms, turning on her heel. "Well, don't just sit there."

00

"What are you doing?"

Derek flopped down on the couch next to her, smirking. "Going to sleep?"

"Sleep somewhere else," she snapped.

"You know, three hours ago you were pretty desperate to find me," he said. "Where'd that Casey go? I want her back."

"That Casey was obviously deluded," she bit out, irritated. "Derek, I really don't want to deal with this right now."

Derek shrugged. "I'm not doing any harm," he said. "I won't even talk to you if you don't want. Since I'm 'patronizing' you and all." He made air quotes with his fingers.

Casey glared at him. "Derek, I'm serious."

"So am I."

She huffed and collapsed on the long couch, pushing at his thighs with her feet. "Move," she said shortly.

"Sure thing." He leaned back so his head was on the opposite side of the couch, facing her. His feet tangled with hers, knees knocking against the inside of her legs. "Better?"

"No." She shivered and scooted backwards so that her legs were stretched out straighter. "Do you have to do this?"

"Quite possibly, yes."

She huffed. "Derek, I really want to go to sleep."

"Then sleep. I won't bother you."

"I can't sleep with you on top of me," she whined.

"If I were on top of you, I wouldn't want you to be _sleeping_."

Casey flushed and squirmed backwards. "Derek, seriously."

"Casey, seriously," he mocked.

"Would you stop it?!" she exclaimed. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"Just…is everything a game?" she snapped. "Do you take anything seriously?"

"I take many things seriously," he replied evenly. "I always take things seriously that are serious. Seriously."

"Fine," she said harshly. "Do you ever take me seriously?"

"I have always taken you seriously," Derek said. "You don't even realize."

"Yeah, right."

"Casey," Derek started solemnly. "I was not, I repeat, _not_, trying to hurt you."

"Really," she said flatly.

"Honest." He shrugged. Casey said nothing, turning her face to the ceiling and sighing tiredly. "Look," he said after a few moments of silence. "Let's start over. Okay?"

"Why the change of heart?" she asked. "Yesterday you wouldn't look me in the eye and now you want to start over?"

"Yeah, well." Derek sighed. "It's a man's prerogative to change his mind."

"No, that would be my prerogative," she said. "And I don't think I want to listen to you anymor – "

"I was avoiding you," he said, speaking over her. "But not for the reasons you think."

"What do I think?" she asked.

"You tell me."

She sighed, turning her face away. "I thought…I dunno."

"Try me," he coaxed.

"I thought," she began slowly, "that you were…disgusted by me. Or something."

"Disgusted?" he repeated incredulously. "Why in the hell would I be disgusted by you?" She turned her face into the material of the couch, cheeks flushed. "Casey."

"I thought I did something, or…said something," she struggled. "I don't know, okay? I don't know what I thought. Why were you avoiding me?"

He tilted his head and smiled. "We really need to communicate better, don't you think?"

She snorted. "Understatement."

He sat up suddenly, grabbing her knee and pulling her closer. "Come here."

She sat up, eyeing him strangely. "What?"

He shook his head, pulling her forward until her face was level with his, legs on either side of his. Carefully, he ran the back of one hand down her face, along her cheekbone, smiling slightly when she shivered. "I have always wanted to do this," he said idly, hand running beneath her chin, down her neck. "I used to stare at your shoulders in class all the time."

She swallowed thickly, afraid to breathe. "Oh?"

He pulled away the collar of her shirt, hand tracing down her bare shoulder. "I've come to a conclusion," he said softly. "I'm kind of an idiot."

"You think?" she breathed.

"If I had just done this earlier…" he shook his head, bringing his hands back up to her face. "Well, you get the idea."

"Right," she said. "The idea."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Could you stop talking, maybe?"

She laughed breathily. "Um."

"Well put." He tilted her chin up and kissed her, causing every nerve ending in her body to explode. Clutching at his shirt, she leaned in as close as she could get.

Finally breaking away, she gasped, heart beating a rapid rhythm against her chest. She gulped. "Um."

He laughed. "Um back."

"You – you really – " she frowned, twisting his shirt beneath her hands. "I – and then you…"

"Shh. No talking."

She let him pull her into another kiss, then abruptly pulled back again. "That's only gonna work for a limited amount of time."

"What does 'shh' mean to you?" He slid a hand behind her neck and pulled her closer. "Seriously."

00

Martin Bardwell liked to think of himself as a rational person. But it was things like this that really pushed him towards the edge of losing control.

What had he ever done, really, to deserve a roommate like Derek Venturi? He never cursed in front of his mother, he'd had a 4.0 all through high school. All he'd ever asked of the others around him was a little decency and respect, and Derek was no different. Logging one's phone calls and labeling one's food in the fridge was only common dorm room courtesy, was it so much to ask of Derek? And was replacing his season six "Java Junkie mash-up" burned Gilmore Girls DVD with Die Hard 2 really necessary? Martin didn't think so.

"Derek, _please?_"

Martin rolled his eyes. Oh, and the girlfriend was a whole other story.

"Case, you know my MySpace policy. Not until I become a pedophile."

"That is a ridiculous policy," she replied matter-of-factly. "All I want is one teensy, weensy picture."

"No! What am I, a piece of meat?"

"Possibly. Cute boyfriend meat," Casey offered.

Martin rolled his eyes. "Could we keep it down a little? Some people have Ethics papers due in the morning."

"Some people don't give a shit," Derek volleyed back. "Case, watch the bookcase."

As if on cue, Casey tripped over Martin's X-Box, barely catching herself on the wall. The X-Box, however, was not so fortunate, and skidded across the floor. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry, Martin."

Yeah, she was clumsy. Understatement.

"Leave it," he snapped. "You'll only break it more."

"I'm really sorry," she said. "Did I hurt it?"

"Nah." Derek dropped down from his bed and peeked over Casey's shoulder. "It's fine. No worries, babe."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Martin snapped. Honestly.

"I can pay for it," Casey said, apologetic.

"No, it's fine," Derek said firmly. "Right, Martin?"

Derek's expression promised pain in his future. What else could he do? "Yes," he said, through gritted teeth. "It's fine."

Derek pulled Casey back towards his bed. "See? No worries. You were talking about pictures?"

"Now you _want_ a picture with me."

"Why wouldn't I want a picture with you? You're hot, I'm hot. Together we could rule the world."

She giggled. "It'll be a dark day when that happens, Derek."

Martin rolled his eyes, throwing his X-Box on his chair to deal with later. He couldn't study around this drivel. "I'm going to the library," he announced. "Derek, remember to log down your 'company hours.' Only five a week."

"Sure," Derek replied distantly. "You too."

Martin rolled his eyes again, shouldering his way out of the door, the laughter of the couple following him like a bad headache.

Worst. Roommate. Ever.

Seriously.

00

Isn't Martin kind of like a Canadian Dwight Schrute? I'd like to think so. Anyway. There you have it, Tracy. Hope you liked it.


End file.
